Thursday, July 4, 2013

MARATHON POST #1

PRE=NUP BEFORE THIS IS PUBLISHED....I have been trying to write more, and something always gets in the way.  I wrote the following (uh, see below if confused) over a week - plus ago.  My intentions were good.  My efforts failed.   So here it is, as is.  If I don't get this done now, how will I ever catch up?   He asks?  Simple answer:  he won't.  So here is what I have at the moment.  I do have some better and longer stuff coming.
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Date: a couple weeks ago

iT HAS BEEN A WEEK - OOPS - cAP bUTTON IS DOWN - there, now that is better.   We start again.  It has been a week plus since my last posting.  We have been busy in retirement - not out seeing dead people but active in retirement - if you get my drift.  This may take more than one blog space, thus the title #1.  You should read #1 before #2, if there is a #2.  #1 and #2 remind me of a joke from Junior High - probably should just let that humor fade away.  I believe it was General McArthur who said,  "Old  dirty jokes never die, they just fade away  (until the next crop of Junior High age boys)."
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Off subject, but related to first paragraph:  I spent grades 6 through 12 in Levelland, Texas (good name for that town).  One might say I am a product of same.  6th grade was in South Elementary school, a low one story brick with a large un-grassed playground.   The boys would go off and play some sport type game and the girls would congregate on the south sidewalk where they played jacks.  I seem to remember them playing a lot of jacks.  Gave my hand a try at it a few times - when we weren't playing manly games - and I can fer sure say that I was terrible at jacks.  But enough of that.
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Then I entered JHS a 2 building complex near downtown - formerly the JH and HS building, now just the JH bldg.   7th grade was housed in a one story bldg. with an auditorium of sorts.   9th was found in the old 2 or 3 story red brick.  The 8th grade floated between the two.  Once I made it into HS, I only had to take P.E. for one year.  In JH I can only remember one year of PE too.   Picture this if you can.  You are standing in the street facing north.  There is one city block in front of you.  This city block is equivalent to four or more regular city blocks.
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On the far right, a vacant area for athletes to train.  To its left is the one story 7th grade bldg.  Next comes the 3 story 9th grade bldg followed by another big brick known as East Elementary.  Levelland had 3 elementary schools at that time:  East, South, and West (Brenda's Alma mater).  My mom was teaching in East.    To the left of East Elem was an old gym - one with the rounded roof, yellow brick, minimal equipment.  Out back were cement slabs holding basketball goals with no nets.  Before I continue with this stone:  Behind East and the 9th building were yellow dog buses.  This was the bus storage lot.  Behind but offset on the far left was a low wooden building holding the shop.  Most of us took at least one semester of shop - a different stone for later.
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Across from the big empty athletic lot on the right, across the street that is, was a low wooden barracks of a building of lesser construction, wood floors, pillars in the middle holding up the roof...this was the band room.  I spent many a sorry hour in this band room.  Many times it was merely a place of "seek and destroy" rather than a refuge for the creation of beautiful music.  I should put JHS band down as a future stone.
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In the 7th grade, we all took P.E.   The coach would go sit somewhere and we were on our own.  Some stayed inside, some straggled out back, nobody knows for sure where the others went.  We guys would venture out back and play horse.  As with jacks, basketball was not my forte.  I found that I could make free shots if I used what I call the granny stance throw...grasp ball near your knees and lob it forward and high.   I don't think I ever won a game of Horse.  Ever.
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When we tired of Horse, we sat in the shade of the building and told jokes.  Most of these were hinting at dirty jokes - of which I understood only a portion - but I laughed dutifully with the others at the end of the recitative.  Day in, Day out, we told jokes sitting against the back of the gym on the bare earth.  New jokes were few and far between, so we told the same old jokes over and over laughing at the punch line each time.
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The only joke I remember had to do with prisoners sitting alone in their cells.  A new prisoner was slammed into his private compartment.  As the days go by, he hears the other prisoners call out a number:  "#22."   Everyone would laugh heartily; then, silence.  Another prisoner:  "#14."  All would guffaw.  Over time the new prisoner learned that jokes had been told so often that the prisoners numbered them.   Someone would yell out a joke number - all would remember the joke and laugh - it saved time.  The new prisoner, wanting to fit in - if you can imagine that - decided to give it a try even though he didn't know any of the jokes.
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"#5," he yelled out.   Complete silence.   He waited.   "#12," he shouted.  Silence again.  Another prisoner yells,  "#42."  Pandemonium breaks out.   Confused, the new prisoner asks an inmate in the next cell why his numbers met silence.   (NOW THE PUNCHLINE)   
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"Some people can tell em; some people can't."
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Yes, behind the gym on most afternoons, that one joke was told hundreds of times.  Each time we all laughed.  I never took the chance to tell it - I was afraid one of them would turn to me and say, "Some people can tell em; some people can't."  
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Insecurity is a marvelous tool.
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Moving on...
I forget the exact date - 2 weeks ago Sat. seems right.  The Spouse and I loaded the 5 dogs (the kids) into our motorhome and we set off to the east.  Our aim was Nachitoches, LA.  It took most of the day on smaller roads traveling cross Tejas, but we made it around 4 or 5...and only one tank of gas.  We were in Palestine, TX by 11-ish and ate at the King Buffet (oriental food).   Not bad and cheap - over-ate as usual.  If you care to get a map you can plot our travel from Palestine to Rusk and points east.  
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Didja know there is a train that runs from Rusk to Palestine and back pretty much daily?  There is.  I think it is overpriced for a 30 minute one-way trip and the return.  But it is the Texas State Railroad run by the State Parks system.  They even have an RV Park - which we have never tried.   I do believe it would be a fun thing to do after I inherit my next Million.
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Further and farther and further and farther we drove East.  Loblolly pines grew thicker and thicker as we journeyed east.  As a graduate from the land mass in the Panhandle, I never seem to tire of pine trees.   I drove.  We stopped and let the dogs have relief.  I drove.  Somewhere around 3 o4 4 our journey ended in Nachitoches at the Nak-a-tash RV park just off the interstate.  It was a very nice park with a very nice lady running the show.  If you rated parks by stars, this might be a 3 star park, maybe.  It had a nice area for walking the dogs, water, electricity and a sewer connection.  It was fine.
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Nachitoches.  How is it pronounced?   Wellup, no Nach-i- toe - ches like it is spelled.  Not on your life.  Nak-a-tish.    We were in Nakatish not Nachitoches.   Gonna close this one right now.  More to follow.  Maybe today, y'never know. 
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